The Scent of Wild Heather
Katrina Joyner
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License Notes: Smashwords edition, copyright 1995 - 2011 Katrina Joyner-Belcher – and probably from other years. This story has been sitting on my computer a very very long time.
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Contents
The Scent of Wild Heather
About the Story
Excerpt: Black Wolf, Silver Fox
The Scent of Wild Heather
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Groggily, Lee-i stumbled out the way station front door and stretched. It was a beautiful morning; the birds were singing, the sun was shining, and in the distance a dragon was doing loops in the blue sky. Yes, it was the kind of day fairy tales were made of. Or, it would have been if he did not have such a damnable headache. Too much wine last night, he reprimanded himself.
How else was he to face those final hours before dawn? On any other day, he could handle the stress of lost urbanites in the jungle or angry elk collisions at the lake’s edge. Any other day, rescuing poachers from angry dragon mothers was everyday business. But, today was another story.
He had the day off. It was a special day, the kind of day most thought of as the happiest of a person’s life. Today he was to wed the beautiful Arlena of Hutchess Farm.
Arlena, unfortunately, had made other plans.
Damnable women. At the first hint of a bard's song, they run off with every lanky musician they meet. Lee-i scuffed the ground unhappily.
There was a soft step to his right, barely audible. Lee-i's sharp eyes caught the hint of movement in the trees. It sounded human, whatever it was, and clumsy.
Lee-i frowned. Just when things could not possibly get worse, he was going to have to deal with poachers . . . this close to the ranger station and on the one day he could not hope to control his temper. Even the other rangers had tiptoed around him before they left for patrol that morning; their companion was surly in his pain, difficult to live with.
There was more movement, farther away. Whomever they were, they sounded inexperienced, that much Lee-i could tell. No doubt they were wandering aimlessly, like so many folks did in the woods. It was amazing how many people got lost in the forest every year. Most of them were city folk who had taken the notion that a rough life living off nuts and berries was not only romantic, but easy. Those that survived usually found themselves footing it to the way station via one of the many paths that traversed the countryside.
Lee-i wanted to just ignore the situation and return to his self-pity, but he could not. Even if he was off duty, he was alone. All of the other rangers had gone into the field.
With a silent grumble, Lee-i padded after the intruder and followed them for several kilometers. It was not difficult. Although the intruder’s step was light, and he tried to cover his tracks, he was also incredibly clumsy. Broken twigs and trampled grass marked a clear trail for Lee-i to follow.
Despite the temptation to capture this stranger quickly, perhaps with a small leap from a nearby tree to frighten him, Lee-i kept himself a small distance behind and only followed. The ranger was certain that this person was not a poacher, unless he was stupid and starving. Poachers had better sense to stumble along blindly, much less that close to a ranger station with Lee-i standing outside in his most surly mood. The penalty for hunting in the forest, for any reason, was castration or death. Lee-i could have caught the poacher, if indeed he were a poacher and not a romantic idiot, quickly and by surprise. He made the chase a game instead, trying to guess the height and weight of his prey by the size of the occasional footstep or the stray hair. The mental image Lee-i soon had was of a young boy, perhaps about fifteen, with black hair. A city boy, judging by his inexperience with the vast forest.
The trail ended suddenly, as if the intruder had grown wings and flown away. Lee-i stopped, confused, and cast about desperately for more clues. There was nothing. Another man would have been alarmed, would have conceded defeat or searched aimlessly farther on. Lee-i was under no obligation to pursue the chase any further; the idiot would be found one way or the other if trouble came of their presence. But this had suddenly become a challenge, and Lee-i was no ordinary man.
His great distant grandfather had been an ELF, a bioengineered Legionnaire for the Field. “Super soldiers,” the old people called them, usually with distaste. Their senses had been genetically enhanced by scientists for war, making them one step above being human. And one step they had chosen to stay, even against excommunication from society. Most people did not trust them, viewed unnatural as they were, and the rest were not comfortable around them.
The ELFs, as they were more commonly called, were all gone now. When the last wars ended, the ELFs were dispersed to civilian lives and the program was shut down. Those that could, lead normal lives by changing their identities. In Lee-i’s case, his grandsire had even managed to marry and have children. Most of the ELFs, however, were shunned as they traveled from town to town. The last band of ELFs disappeared into the forest ages ago, and now everyone thought them gone forever.
ELF blood ran through Lee-i's veins, and he knew he was a product of good fortune. Only the other rangers knew about it, even though ELF families were more accepted in his day. In fact, he was a treasured part of the ranger crew, because he reaped all the benefits of his lineage. His senses were extra sharp, his strength twice stronger than the average man’s, and his intelligence rated fifty percent higher than average. More importantly, Lee-i was pathic; he could communicate emotion and thought on a psychic level. This was not considered unusual for humans, so much as the intensity Lee-i managed to convey his messages. Even old Jack, who had been a ranger for thirty years, conceded to Lee-i’s prowess on occasion.
Admittedly, Lee-i was a little vain about his abilities. Not every descendent carried the genetic DNA, or even the desires, that had made the ELFs special. Those that did rarely had any gift beyond a slight premonition once in a while. But even with just that, Lee-i knew he could capture this interloper and end this game at any time.
He closed his eyes and listened. Quietly, the forest enveloped him, trying to trick his senses. The birds were silent, too silent. The intruder was nearby, close enough to frighten the local wildlife into hiding.
The trees rustled to one another, speaking in their slow, empathic way. Rain was coming, and they were relieved because the forest had been experiencing a slight drought for the past several weeks. Not once did they mention a stranger in the woods, although a young sapling did wonder idly what the strange man was doing so close to its root system. The stranger had done nothing to harm anything, then. Not that Lee-i was surprised.
The scent of heather drifted down, filled his nostrils, and reminded him of home. No heather grew in the forests of Bellear, where Lee-i was stationed, and only grew wild in the hills of Neissan. Lee-i's thoughts drifted there, land of his childhood, as images of those hills colored purple by that tiny, fragrant flower filled his mind. Suddenly, he was homesick.
His mind was wandering. With a lurch, he forced himself back to the present. His senses followed the scent upward, above the ground, floating on the vibration of recent passing.
Lee-i looked up. Bark fell into his eyes. He blinked it away, grinning. "Okay," he called. "You can come down now."
There was soft cursing in the branches. Slowly, clumsily, a teenage boy made his way to the ground. Nearly slipping halfway down, he recovered himself enough to drop the last few feet, landing catlike before Lee-i. Long hair ruffled in a sudden breeze and was tossed self-consciously. Glittering blue eyes regarded him with distrust.
Not a boy, Lee-i saw with a jolt. No dark-haired child was this, although Lee-i could have sworn otherwise by the strands of hair he had found. It was a girl, barely in full flower, and half-starved. She wore what once was a pink satin gown; only the bodice remained intact. She wrinkled a freckled nose at him and shook her brown hair from her eyes. The scent of heather clung to her like perfume.
"I don't suppose," the girl said with a strange accent, "that you have anything to eat? I could at least have that before you hand me over to whatever authorities there are in this barbarous place."
Although he was wrong on most counts, Lee-i was right about one thing: This girl was definitely city-bred.
"Come with me," he said, trying to look stern and only managing to sound gruff. He had never been so wrong about anything before, and it disappointed him. "And don't try to run away. I can find you." He gestured toward the way station and began to walk, not caring if she followed or not.
"I guessed that," the girl said dryly. She fell in step behind him and followed willingly. Surprised, Lee-i glanced at her. He had expected more of a fight from this feisty spirit, but held his peace. If he was lucky, she would stay this cooperative all the way to the station.
Once there, Lee-i fed her cold gruel, leftovers from breakfast. The girl devoured all of it, licked her bowl clean, and then had seconds. Four bowls and six glasses of milk somehow found their way into her slight frame. Lee-i was hard put not to peek into her ears for leakage.
After she was done, she sat at the table with her hands carefully folded in front of her. Was she waiting for an interrogation? It seemed only natural, but Lee-i felt disinclined to bother her. He sat opposite from her and sharpened his knife as if strange girls in the way station were commonplace.
"Well?" the girl finally demanded. Lee-i looked up, coming back from thoughts distant and far away, and again met those blue eyes.
"Well what?" he asked with amusement. "Are you still hungry, then?"
She sighed impatiently. "What are you going to do with me now?" she demanded. "Hang me, give me away, quarter me? Maybe you’ll sell me." This last part she said flatly, as if she had been through it before.
He laid his knife aside, slowly so as not to startle her. "I suppose," he said, "you could tell me where you're from. What brings you here, days into the deepest part of the forest? If its romance you’ve been seeking, I dare say you’ll not find it dying from starvation, all alone."
She did not want to answer. It was evident in the toss of her brown mane, the glint in her eye. "I come from overseas," she said. "And I'm here, in this horrid place, because it seemed like a good idea at the time."
Not very straight answers. Or perhaps, they were straight enough not to give anything away. Obviously it was all he hoped to get from her, not that he felt like pressing the subject. "All right," he said, allowing her to keep her privacy. "So what do I do with you now?"
She shrugged. "Do I have a choice in the matter?"
"I suppose," Lee-i said. "So long as I'm convinced you're up to no harm. Most times, when we find someone, we take ‘em home. I get the feeling we can’t do that for you. So help me out here. Why are you out here, with no provisions . . . dressed like that? Most people seeking their death come better prepared."
She did not answer. Just when the silence became impenetrable, Lee-i said, "Well, first thing we do, I suppose, is to get you bathed. And dressed into something more than rags." He pointed to the back of the building. "Get going. The tub awaits."
Dubiously, she eyed him to be sure he was serious. He was. She went to the bathtub where it stood in a closet barely big enough for it. Satisfied, Lee-i cleared the table and turned on the sink faucet. Hot water gushed forward, warming his hands, and slowly filled the sink. In tumbled the dishes, and plenty of soap.
Meanwhile, the girl stood at the entrance to the station’s tiny bathroom and stared. Lee-i did not notice at first because he was busy washing dishes. When she finally grew brave enough to step forward and begin looking the tub over, as if she had never seen one before, Lee-i happened to look up. She turned a knob and jumped when water poured out of the spigot.
Overseas, she had said. It made sense. People from across the water were largely ignorant, a technologically impaired, superstitious lot who regarded people like Lee-i as “Demon Folk.” So much knowledge had been lost through the years after the wars, and governments like the one Lee-i worked for did nothing to help those poor people over the waters.
He would have to be careful with her, he decided as he dried his hands quickly on a handy towel. Clumsily, the girl shut the bathroom’s sliding door. At least he would not be forced to help her there. At least, he hoped so. He threw some old clothes, an old pair of jeans and shirt, over the door quickly, shouting for her to use them. There was no sound within except for running water. Lee-i decided that if she did not come out by dawn, then he would worry.
Much later, the girl emerged from the bathroom. She wore the clothes Lee-i had given her. They fit a little loosely, but it was a definite improvement from her earlier attire. Her hair was wet and sparkled like copper. The scent of heather was dampened and mingled with soap.
"Now that you feel better," Lee-i said, "I need to know. Where are you going? What are you going to do? I’ll help you all I can, as will my fellows when they come in from the field. That’s part of what we’re here to do."
What might have been hope in her eyes died. She slumped back into her chair and stared at her lap. "I don't know what to do," she said softly.
He had found her in the middle of nowhere, half starved to death, wearing rags that once had been fit for a princess, and she did not know where she was going or what to do. Typically female.
"You can't stay here," Lee-i pointed out. "Putting up strangers is strictly against the rules.” At the hopelessness on her face, “You can come with me to find our dinner, and after that tell me where you want to go, and I'll do what I can to help you. I promise. You won’t be turned away to the cold. We can figure out something. There’s the Widow Brown in town; she sometimes puts up folks like you. She’s very nice, and I’m sure she’d love you. Meantime, I’ve got to check the traps."
No response. Lee-i shrugged, picked up his bow and quiver, and walked outside. The scent of heather went with him. He knew the girl was a mere foot behind. He ignored her and concentrated on the snares.
Each was laid in a widening pattern around the station, ready to catch any unsuspecting game that stumbled through. Lee-i was a good ranger, but a lazy hunter. And, with snares, he did not have to be there when his prey died. Sometimes being empathic was a disadvantage, especially when you were feeling that animal breathe its last before your very eyes.
"What is that?" the girl asked when they reached the first snare. A rabbit dangled lifelessly from it, but she did not shy away like most women would have.
"You've never seen a snare before?" Lee-i asked. He cut the rabbit down, looked at the sun, and wished the other snares could wait until evening. "Pity. If you had, you might not have been starving to death when I found you."
She thrust her chin up. "Just because I can't survive in your world," she said haughtily, "don't think you can survive in mine."
Lee-i laughed. The girl deflated visibly. "Wherever did you get the idea I would want to survive in your world?" he said through his laughter. "Lady, you have queer ideas of what other people must think!"
Her eyelashes lowered. Two tears slid down her cheeks, but she made no sound. Instantly, Lee-i felt regret. "Hey, miss," he said. "I'm sorry."
"No," the girl said, biting her lip. "You're right. Teach me, please?"
"Teach you? Teach you what?"
"How to make the snares. How to survive."
It was against his better judgment, but they spent the rest of that day making snares and checking the ones already laid. She was a fast learner. When he told her to skin a rabbit, she dispatched it without flinching. And she was good, like she had done it before.
When he asked her about it, she only shook her head and said, "Not rabbits." Something in her eyes spoke of darkness, and dread. He did not pursue his question, although he wanted to. Something in her eyes would not allow it, and perhaps it was better that way.
The sun sailed westward, sinking below the trees and into the horizon. Lee-i and the girl never noticed. They were inside the way station when it did. The lights there burned bright as noon, the girl had said in awe. Charmed by her ignorance, Lee-i showed her the toaster, the knife sharpener and the oven. She burned her hand, winced, and ignored it. A real trooper.
Privately, Lee-i compared his new charge with Arlena. Arlena, also being from a foreign land, had not known of these things either. When Lee-i had tried to educate his bride-to-be, she politely listened and then returned to her old, more rudimentary way of doing things. Arlena had white-gold hair that fell in soft waves around her apple-smooth face, and eyes of the brightest green. But, all that faded like mist when compared to this new girl’s childlike curiosity.
Lee-i and his guest soon shared stew together at the table. Once she felt it was safe, she peppered him with various questions concerning hunting and curing the meat. Trying to answer him as best he could, Lee-i often found himself up against a silent wall full of intimate knowledge, especially when answering questions concerning where and where not to cut an animal’s hide. It was disturbing, but Lee-i kept his composure. Surely, the girl would tell him when she was ready, provided she stayed long enough.
The door opened abruptly, and the girl jumped. Jorg and Rose entered, both of them tired and hungry, and paused to eye her. She returned their scrutiny unflinchingly, setting her spoon down as if preparing for further confrontation.
"Well," Rose said, her tousled brown hair shadowing her eyes like fallen leaves, "Lee-i. Who's your friend?"
It dawned on Lee-i that he did not know. He looked at the girl, and she looked at him. Jorg chuckled. "Seems to me," he said to Rose, "that the two aren't sure themselves."
"Her name is Heather," Lee-i said with sudden inspiration. The girl smiled mysteriously into her stew. "Found her this morning, lost in the woods."
Rose thumped down at the table while Jorg ladled out bowls of stew for them both. "Whatever was ya doing out here, girl?" she asked. "You could have died. We can't find everyone that thinks they can make it out here, you know."
"Where are the others?" Lee-i asked, desperate to keep the topic from delving too far into the girl’s situation.
"They'll be staying out overnight," Jorg said, slurping a spoonful of stew loudly. "There was bit of a trouble down by the river. A dragonet. Its mother is dead, mauled by something bigger than it. Earth and sky only know what we’ll do about it."
The only thing big enough to maul a dragon was another, bigger dragon. Lee-i whistled appreciatively. It would take all of them to keep that dragonet calm, if they managed to get that far. Left to its own devices, a grieving dragonet could flame the forest down. Rose and Jorg had probably come back to the station to retrieve Lee-i; he was the best of them when it came to mind speaking the wildlife.
Most rangers in Bellear had ELF backgrounds. The inherited gifts from their forefathers and -mothers were what made successful rangers. Few average people survived long in the woods of Bellear, even if they felt inclined to.
Besides dragons, there were mudsnakes, who liked to lay wait along river beds and in streams, predatory cats and dozens of other dangers. If one did not run afoul of these, there were also hidden traps like quicksand or pitfalls. The rangers had a saying about protecting this dangerous environment: Either you were successful, or you were dead.
Those blue eyes were watching him as the girl waited to see what he was going to say. Threats of bereaved dragonets dissolved in the mist of her shining eyes.
"In the morning I'll be taking Heather to the nearest town," Lee-i said. He took a mouthful of stew and chewed on a piece of meat before continuing. "I shouldn't be gone more than two days. Maybe three, if I have to stay overnight. With all of you guys handling that dragonet, you won’t be needing me."
Rose and Jorg exchanged a glance. "It's about time you got over that Arlene woman," Rose said finally. "Even if at an inconvenient time."
"Fortunately for us," Jorg said, "the river is on the way to the nearest town. The girl can stay out of the way. We’ll set one of the younger ones to protect her, if you’re that worried about her safety. But the dragonet is a real threat, Lee-i, and we need you."
Lee-i wanted to protest, but he merely tightened his jaw and pretended to enjoy his meal. Rose, an empath, sensed it and said, "There's no rush to get there tonight. We have the dragonet drugged for now, but in the morning we hope to let it loose. It can't stay drugged up forever."
"But it's pretty upset," Jorg said. "We need you, Lee-i."
It was settled. The four of them struck out into the woods the next day just as dawn was a grey hint in the sky. The girl did not complain as they hiked briskly through the trees, although her breath soon came ragged and her side began to ache. Struggling to keep pace with her companions, she stumbled many times from exhaustion. Out of sympathy, Lee-i demanded a halt. The other rangers sighed, but agreed.
The girl sank to the ground without a sound. Rose and Jorg gave each other a knowing smirk colored with frustration. They were very close to their destination, but the couple remained silent when faced with Lee-i's glare. Lee-i offered the girl some jerky, which she accepted and chewed slowly.
A roar echoed in the distance. Instantly alert, the girl snapped her head up and made a worried, mewing sound. Rose swore. Jorg hurriedly picked up their things, mumbling worriedly. Lee-i helped the girl to her feet.
"The dragonet," Rose said briskly. "They must have lost control of it. Listen. It's headed this way."
Indeed, the crashing of something large thundered around them. That dragonet was moving fast, and when a dragon of any size decided to move the best thing to do was get out of the way. Problem was, however, Lee-i could not decide which way to go. The girl clung to his arm, her breath fast and shallow like a bird’s. If she had wings, she would already have flown away, Lee-i thought to himself.
The rangers sprinted toward the sound as fast as they could go. The girl kept pace with them at first, but dropped back as she tired. Lee-i turned then, caught her wrist, and pulled her forward. "I'm sorry," he cried to her, "but we have no time!"
The trees broke suddenly, giving way to grassland and the river edge. The river glittered in the distance like a band of diamonds. Nearby, seven rangers surrounded an adolescent dragon the size of a small hut. Around them, sleep darts and ropes littered the ground. One of the troop, a lad by name of Friedrich, aimed his crossbow loaded with another sleep dart. He fired, missed, then the dragonet swiped him away with an arm.
It roared, flaming into the sky, and thrashed its tail. Rosa and Jorg hurried to join the others, momentarily forgetting Lee-i and his charge. Lee-i pushed the girl against a large tree.
"Wait here," he said. "It shouldn't charge this way, but if it does get out of the way. Fast. I'll be right back."
The dragonet wailed its distress to any who would hear. Its mother was dead, slain by a rival for territory, and now it was alone. How would it feed? How would it live? Quieting, it groaned, sensing a new mind as Lee-i drew close. Unexpectedly, it suddenly roared right in Lee-i’s direction. The ranger could feel the waves of grief rolling from it, like cold rolling from a snowbank.
"Be still!" Lee-i called to it as he ran. Standing just under its head, he thrust out every bit of energy he had. He sought its mind and fought to enter, to resolve the knot of panic within. The dragonet fought back with a loud brawl and swatted Lee-i away.
He landed with a skid and sat up in a daze. Hermal, the youngest of them, was at his side. "Can you try again?" he asked breathlessly. His bangs were seared away, and his clothes were scorched. "We may have to kill it if we can't get it under control."
It was against their ethics to kill anything unnecessarily, least of all anything as endangered as a healthy dragon. Their government employed them to guard the forest and its endangered denizens, not to destroy it. Dragons, aside from being almost extinct, were prized as a source of hormones for medicine.
Besides, if they were forced to kill the dragonet, it would mean a year of investigation by the authorities.
This situation had happened one other time, four years before. Investigators from the capital still made surprise visits, to be sure more dragons were not being poached for sale on the black market.
But the dragonet was threatening to burn the forest in revenge for its slain mother. It would see the rival starve before eating the game of its territory. If something could not be done, the dragonet would have to die.
Shakily Lee-i walked forward, back to the dragonet. It noticed him and was surprised. Had not it killed this one already? It lowered its snout, eyes met eyes, and Lee-i concentrated.
What good would burning the forest down do for the dragonet? It would starve, and never grow up to fight the rival and regain its territory. Lee-i felt calm pour through him. The dragonet admitted the truth. Lee-i relaxed.
Suddenly rage boiled back forth. The dragonet did not care. Its mother was gone! Gone! Now it would kill this puny human before it. It would dine on human flesh and become strong, and then it would flame the forest! Drive out the killer! Revenge!
The dragonet lifted a massive claw to take another swipe. It roared its defiance. Dismayed rangers drew their arrows, aiming for the neck, knowing they would have to make them count. Above it all, a young voice rang through the treetops.
"Stop!" She came from nowhere, with arms outstretched, and stood in front of Lee-i. Stunned, Lee-i stepped back as the scent of wild heather overpowered him. The girl stood defiant, legs spread apart. "Stop!" she shouted with her mouth and mind. Lee-i winced. Her voices were deafening.
Pausing, the dragonet cocked its head slightly and stared. The girl stepped forward. The dragonet lowered its head to her and made a lowing sound. She stepped onto its snout and stroked an eye ridge. Lee-i sensed they were communicating on an upper level, beyond his skill. He felt a twinge of jealousy.
A barely perceptible nod from the girl, and the dragonet lowered her to the ground. The rangers still held their arrows ready, but the great beast ignored them. It turned back toward the river and shuffled away. Soon it was crossing to the other side of that glittering band of water and disappearing into the trees. A sense of relief washed over the rangers as they watched it go.
The girl grinned from ear to ear. "Lucky for you," she said, "it has a set of younger sisters to think about. I explained that burning down the forest would starve them as well. It promised to leave well enough alone, until all were strong enough for it to challenge the other dragon properly."
"You're brilliant!" Lee-i breathed. He took her hands into his own. "Simply brilliant!" With her talent and apparent natural inclination for the forest, the girl could easily be the best ranger to ever live. Indeed, to have ever been born. He did not think to ask how she came across the gifts she just displayed, although somehow he knew he should. All he could think about were those merry, blue eyes that were shining as if she were filled with stars.
"Have you ever thought about becoming a ranger?" Rose asked, echoing his unvoiced question.
"You'd certainly make a pretty one," said Thur. He was the handsome one of them. The village maidens swooned over him endlessly.
The girl smiled at Thur, then sought Lee-i's face. He felt a thrill run through him. "No, I haven't," she said. "Before now."
It was a merry night at the way station. After dinner had been eaten and the mess cleared away, Rose played her guitar while the others danced and sang. The girl giggled childlike, clapped her hands, showed an unusual skill on the floor when Thur asked her to dance. She obviously had been taught how, and gracefully. Lee-i traced her bone structure with his eyes. So very delicate, almost birdlike.
They did not notice the knock on their door until it had become a pounding. Their voices and Rose's guitar fell silent, leaving the air oddly alone, while Jorg answered it. As he stepped outside to speak with their guest, the rangers left inside muttered to themselves. The girl, standing beside Lee-i, panted prettily, "Are there more of you?"
The only ranger not there was Head Ranger Vyolen. He was a week's travel away on business in the city. And he would not have knocked, even if he had returned early. Lee-i mused to himself, running possibilities in his mind. The way station rarely had visitors outside of official capacity.
"Heather," Jorg said as he stepped back inside. He was followed by a grey-eyed man. The man bowed to Lee-i and then the others. "Do you know this man?"
The girl gasped. All color drained from her face, and she clutched Lee-i's arm in a painful grip. "Krayg," she whispered.
"Sister," the man said with all the show of a loving brother. He ran up to her, crushed her into a hug, but the girl did not return his affection. "I thought I would never find you! Father is so worried, he sits in his study and thinks of nothing else!"
"How did you find me?" the girl choked. She managed to push Krayg away and refused to look at him. "I was so very careful!"
"Tush," her brother said teasingly. "If I told you that, you wouldn't make the same mistake again. Then what would I do?"
"Well, I'm not going back," the girl boldly declared.
"Must we really go through this again?" The man spoke with a barely noticeable sneer. The other rangers shuffled their feet uncomfortably.
Into the silence, Hermal said, "Heather, I'm sure your father is very worried about you. And you can always come back to visit."
"You'd be welcome," Rose said.
"No!" cried the girl. "I won't be able to come back! I won't go with you," she cried to Krayg. "Never!"
Krayg's sneer became more noticeable. "Do you honestly think you can get away?" he said. "You can run, my dear, but you can't hide."
The girl buried her face into Lee-i's chest, who was still trying to climb over his shock. "Please, don't let him take me!" she wailed. She was shaking. It seemed that her stoutness and earlier bravery were a sham in the face of this man. Lee-i placed protective arms around her.
"Listen," he said, "I don't know what exactly is going on here--"
"No, you don't," the man interrupted him coolly.
"And I don't care," Lee-i finished angrily. "She wants to stay. So you can just tell her father that if he wants to see her so badly, he can come here!"
"No!" the girl cried hastily. Shaking her head wildly, she stepped away from Lee-i. His shirt was stained with her tears, and the air cooled his skin in the absence of her warmth.
Her brother laughed. "Not a good idea. Eh, uh . . . what did they call you? Heather?" Suddenly, he grabbed the girl's arm and jerked her away from Lee-i. "Now, come along. Father wants to see us now."
"Now, see here," Hermal broke in, the peacemaker, "it's dark outside and dangerous. At least wait until dawn." The other rangers murmured agreement, unwilling to see the girl torn away but helpless against a brother’s rightful claim.
"No time," Krayg said as he pulled the unwilling girl toward the door. "Sorry."
"LET ME GO!" the girl cried with her mind and body. Lee-i was not the only one who heard it this time. Most of the rangers clutched their heads in pain and moaned. Stunned, Lee-i slumped to his knees.
He looked up in time to see the girl dash out the door. Through his pain-distorted vision, her hair seemed impossibly long and black, and something fluttered behind her. The door slammed back on its hinges loudly.
Krayg watched her go with the patience of a sated snake. He crossed his arms, looked down on Lee-i, and said, "Are you going to chase her, or shall I?"
"What?" Lee-i said as he staggered to his feet. He did not wait for an answer but followed the girl as quickly as he could. The grey-eyed man only stood and watched him go. It made no sense, but Lee-i did not stop to worry about it. Somewhere in the dark, the girl was getting lost.
The moon had risen but was only half full. Despite that, the girl's trail was easier to follow then before as carelessness created more clues for the ranger to follow. She might as well have taken a pail of white paint and marked her path for him.
He found her several miles deep in the woods. Sitting on an old, hollow log, she had her face buried into her hands and wept loudly. Lee-i approached softly, unnoticed, and cleared his throat. She jumped up, ready to run, and saw who it was.
"Lee-i?" she asked, as if unsure it could really be he. "Did Krayg follow you?"
"It's strange, but no," Lee-i said. "What's going on here? I don’t understand. He comes all this way to find you, and when you run he doesn’t go after you. What kind of family do you come from?"
She only shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she muttered. The sobbing returned, fresh and pathetic. Lee-i gathered her into his arms and held her there against his shoulder. Clumsily, he patted her back.
He closed his eyes and for an instant felt that he was not holding a brunette maid of eighteen. She was a girl of fifteen with hair black as night. Her trusting spirit fell in place more perfectly with this alien vision than the blue-eyed Heather he was coming to know. It was so real, this new vision, that he pushed the girl back to look at her. Her blue eyes, now drying, regarded him from beneath wisps of brown.
"I'll go," she sniffled. "I've put you and your people in danger. And I don’t wanna see you get hurt, too."
"What danger?" Lee-i asked incredulously. "What can your brother do against nineteen rangers armed to the teeth?" Softening, he said, “Who’s been hurt? Tell me.”
Nevertheless, the girl pushed him away. She walked a few steps without looking back. Lee-i followed her because he could do nothing else. "I'll help you," he offered. "You can't survive out here alone."
She was about to protest. He could feel it by how it vibrated around her and how the scent of heather grew stronger. "Besides," he said very quickly. "I promised to teach you how to survive out here. I can't let you leave without that. I thought you wanted to learn more about hunting."
They slept huddled together in the log for warmth. They still slept when the sun rose, and they were sleeping still when noon came and went. When they finally did open their eyes, it was too late to do much in the way of hunting, so Lee-i spent what time he had showing Heather which plants were edible and which plants were poisonous. Her memory was perfect; she knew them all without reminders. They dined on berries and leaves as they walked. Later, the sun sank on their shelter made from leaves and bark, blessed their snares when it rose.
Days went by. Miraculously, the girl's steps transformed from loud and clumsy to sure and quiet. She still had a lot to learn, but Lee-i did not worry so much now. So adept was she, he was certain he could turn her loose and never would she go hungry except in severe conditions.
But the nights, on the other hand, had begun to worry him a lot. Snuggled in his embrace for warmth, the girl was a live thing with delicate breath and collar bones that caught the moonlight like hungry lamps. She was beautiful, no doubt about it, but that was not Lee-i’s fear. No doubt she would return his attentions if he tried, but always when the darkness surrounded them, Lee-i was filled with the strong feeling that it was not Heather he held in his arms. He was hard put to place where the visions kept coming from, and so he refrained from anything more than wrapping his arms around her tiny frame.
Sometimes, she looked at him with those enchanting eyes, as if she knew how he ached to have her. Curled eyelashes sometimes would sweep downward as she closed her eyes and smiled softly. Her expression often said she would not mind, and twice Lee-i even reached down to kiss her tender lips. At first, she had stiffened in his arms, but soon softened and curled closer to her friend and protector. Then, with his eyes closed, the vision of that other girl again filled Lee-i’s mind. He could not continue.
The second time, two days later, Lee-i tried again, only to find himself so convinced it was a dark-haired girl he held, that he cracked open his eyes even as his lips moved to her willing neck. The scent of heather was strong. He caught glimpses of black hair. Olive skin.
His enhanced sight could not be fooled by night shadows. Neither could his extra senses be telling him wrong, but Lee-i was only confused by what they were saying. He separated from her and sighed. "Sleep," he bade while stroking her brown hair. If she were disappointed, she said nothing. Presently her breathing deepened, and only then did he dare to sleep, too.
He did not try again, even when the temptation was painfully strong. And the girl never said anything. Perhaps she sensed something was wrong, perhaps she did not. Lee-i decided things were better that way.
The moon was waning when they topped the rise where the forest ended and the plains began. It was a marvelous sight. The girl smiled her appreciation as the wind played with her hair. She bore no resemblance to the man who had claimed to be her brother; not now, not during all the time they had spent together.
No details were forthcoming, and Lee-i suddenly realized. He did not want to know. Whomever had hurt her did not deserve to see her again, that much he was sure. He wished he could go with her on the rest of the journey, but he was bound to his job in the forest. There were heavy penalties for deserters, as well as creative ways to find them. Lee-i was forced to content himself with the knowledge that the girl could feed herself when the time came to go.
It was time.
"Follow the setting sun," Lee-i said heavily, waving a hand in a general direction, "and you'll reach Talonia. There probably will be a good captain in port willing to sail you home, to wherever you came from."
Her eyes were wide. "You are not coming?" she asked in obvious distress.
He shook his head sadly. "I'm in trouble as it is," he said. "If I stay away any longer, I'll probably be discharged when I get back. If I’m lucky. I’ve seen folks beheaded for less than going AWOL a few days." The thought made him scowl. "Besides, I can't cross the border. Talonia and Bellear have a very tentative peace."
She nodded. Her eyes said that she knew all about tentative peace, about borders, about everything. "Thank you," she said gravely, the words escaping her lips like clouds.
"Just go," he said gruffly. She nodded, made her way down the hill, and was soon out of sight.
He had a few hours until sunset. He should have been making the best of it by traveling at his fastest pace. He spent some of it listening to the trees tell him which way she went. The scent of heather clung to him; he breathed it while he could. He walked slowly, nursing the emptiness he felt inside.
A mind shout shattered his melancholy. Heather! He knew it, as surely as he knew himself. Turning, he ran with everything he had. Saplings slapped his face. Roots tripped him in his haste. Another shout echoed through him, guiding him onward.
The plain greeted him with the swishing of grass. He swam it bravely and set his sights on the distant figure of a girl facing off a familiar-looking man. She saw Lee-i, twisted away, and ran for him. The man jumped on her, grappled her, and finally began dragging her away.
It had been building inside of him forever. As despair of losing her washed through him, Lee-i shouted with a power of his own. It reverberated over everything: the grass, the distant trees, the air. Stunned, Krayg lost his grip on the girl, who slumped unconscious to the ground. Panting, Lee-i finally reached them.
"I won't let you have her," Lee-i gasped. "You mean her nothing but harm. I’ll fight you for her!"
Krayg's eyes were hard. They reflected jealousy, anger, futile desire. At their feet, the girl slowly opened her eyes and sat. She looked around and wiped her brow with a shaky hand.
"I could kill you," Krayg said, chuckling a bit.
"But she wouldn't like it," Lee-i retorted. "And I can see that you would make her happy, too. So, let her go. She doesn’t want to go home with you." His hand reached to his waist, where his knife lay in its sheath. It would be the first time he used it for bloodshed, but he would for Heather.
"Please," the girl said, standing to sway gently. "Please, Krayg. Let me go."
"Haven't you thought that I can't?" Krayg said to her, his grey eyes looking trapped. "That our father would punish me, too?"
Fear of her father. Was that what she was running from? Lee-i started to reach for the girl, but pulled away. She seemed untouchable.
"I'm never gone long. I always come back. You know that. If not then . . . then . . . " Her voice trembled, and she licked her lips. "You know what he would do. I can’t stay another minute there!" She turned to Lee-i. “It’s terrible what they do to me. To us all! You’ve skinned a rabbit. Imagine . . . there was a man . . . And what for, what did that man do to deserve it? Nothing. I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t!” And she broke into tears, burying her face into her hands, retreating to that familiar gesture for comfort.
Lee-i touched her arm, unsure of what to say. What kind of people were these? Could he hope to fight against someone like Krayg and win? He would try, for her. Sickened at the thought of what the girl had just said, and the things she never could, Lee-i pulled his knife from its sheath.
“I will fight you for her,” Lee-i said again.
Krayg did not answer. His eyes were focused inward, as if he, too, did not want to face the horrors at home. Lee-i thought of his own ancestors, who had been created as instruments of the most wicked deeds of war. He wondered if they could compare to what he was seeing hints of in that moment.
Wiping tears from her eyes, the girl stepped toward Krayg and held out her hand. "You have a token of my faith, hidden away with the old man. Just for a little while, Krayg. Please."
Silence stretched out immeasurable. Krayg finally nodded, too choked to speak. Lee-i could not believe it was that easy for her; to talk her way into freedom from someone so set on keeping her. Then he remembered the dragonet, and somehow it all fell into place.
She smiled and giggled. She threw her arms thankfully around Krayg's neck, who looked shocked but returned the embrace fervently. Then she turned her affection to Lee-i, who nestled her hair and breathed in the smell of that tiny flower. The image of the other girl rose before his eyes. Suddenly, he was holding her.
She winked a violet eye at him and then she was Heather, normal-looking and extraordinary. Lee-i stammered, wanting to ask what she was, how could she be there. Why could she not stay? Would he see her again? He pushed it down.
Were these Demon Folk? he wondered, his eyes flicked from one face to another. Was there a basis to the old tales and superstitions?
The girl was kissing him, passionately. He responded, helplessly caught in his need for her. I hope you have the sense to stay away, he thought to her.
I will, she returned. It startled him, this rare use of talent. She smiled sadly, slipped out of his arms.
Then she was gone, making her way through the grass and toward Talonia. Too soon, she became a silhouette against the setting sun. Something fluttered, and then even her silhouette disappeared. Lee-i blinked, unsure of what he had seen, or even if wings that size were possible.
Krayg had left without a sound. Lee-i did not know the man was gone until he looked around, intent on pressing his questions to him. There was a faint odor which destroyed the cloying perfume of the girl's passing.
Demon Folk. Lee-i speculated that he was going insane, or perhaps this was all a dream. The old women said that Demon Folk were elusive, keeping deep in the forest where even the rangers would not go. They possessed powers of transportation, shape-shifting and telepathy. Just to name a few. But those were all myths, or so Lee-i had always thought.
Old folk also said Demon Folk were descendants of the ELFs.
Some ELFs, so it was said, could not adapt to civilian ways after the clinics that birthed them were closed forever. They had spent their entire lives at war. Peace was quite a culture shock. Their answer to that problem was to make a new home for themselves. No one quite remembered where. Only other ELFs, or children of the ELFs, ever made their way to it. So it was said.
Mingling with human stock had kept Lee-i's family relatively normal. The Demon Folk, pure-blooded as they were, had a problem. Each generation was born more powerful than the last. Strange spawned stranger until their humanity was gone.
Perhaps that was what the scientists had in mind when first they tampered with the ELFs' genetic makeup. No one alive knew. Except the Demon Folk, who might still hold such secrets in their lair. If they existed.
Lee-i blew out noisily and turned back toward the forest. He would never see the girl again, whatever her origin. It would be a lonely trip back.
He was not the same man after that, the other rangers were often heard to say. Rather than explain what had happened on his jaunt through the forest -- as Hermal described it -- he took six months in solitary as punishment for going AWOL. And he withstood his sentence like a martyr, taking that time to contemplate his lost Heather and the man who chased her. When he was released, he went home.
After a tentative courtship, he married a childhood sweetheart and brought her to Bellear. His wife brought potted plants with her to remind them of home. There were blue gardenias, purple spiders, a young mimosa, foxgloves, lilies, bleeding hearts, and heather.
The heather died within a year. It was the same year that Lee-i's first child, a daughter, was born. They named her Aisse. Time marked its passing with the turning of leaves. Aisse took her first steps and learned to fire a bow. If anyone asked, she told them she was going to become a ranger like her father. She had the gifts and liked to practice them on her numerous pets.
Lee-i grew content. His nights were never lonely, he was respected by his peers, and never did without. The gods had been kind.
He never forgot the sweet scent of heather. And after a while, he stopped trying.
END
About this Story:
This story was written as a companion to my novel, Trait of Honor. I think I was in my mid-twenties at the time, which means this story probably reflects the lack of early skill in my youth.
At first, I thought perhaps Lee-i would be a part of Trait of Honor itself, but alas. The character was content to settle down and live a boring life after the ordeal I had put him through.
Well. Nuts to him.
Excerpt From Black Wolf, Silver Fox
~*~
Chapter One - "Aramina"
The moon hung full and bright over the thick canopy of the forest. Shafts of moonlight pierced the leaves to fall in dappled shades of grey onto the ground. Occasionally, there was a swish as underbrush was carefully moved aside to allow the passage of some nocturnal beast. Otherwise, the air was deadly quiet as if the entire world were waiting.
The black one ran silently through the trees, dodging the pale moonlight as if it were poison. She paused and sniffed to test the air and get her bearings. The moon called her onward. Through the trees and underbrush, she rushed, across streamlets and pale meadows.
The cries of her brethren followed as she loped along. They sang of family, kinship, and togetherness. They were the things she turned her back on now as other memories moved restlessly in her mind. Her ripped left ear throbbed: a warning from the pack leader. It would probably scar and serve as a permanent reminder.
Suddenly, a clearing burst out of the trees. Not wanting to step out of the forest and be exposed, the black one halted and whined. Indecisively, she paced back and forth in the shadows.
She could hear a familiar, flapping sound in distance. It’s presence nagged at her, although she only acknowledged it with a flick of her good ear. Her pacing slowed then halted altogether as it grew louder. To herself, she growled a low warning before setting paw into the clearing before her.
Something that looked like an old rag appeared suddenly in a nearby patch of moonlight. It circled the black one like trash caught in a whirlwind, dizzying her senses. Finally, it stopped flying to land in the clearing before her. She lowered her ears, crouched in place, and whined again. Her tail hung limply between her tensed legs.
Either a flying bat or an old cloak -- it was difficult to tell – it fluttered once by way of threat. Then it changed, lengthened, and gained mass until a handsome elf stood in its place. His green eyes sparkled above a sharp-toothed grin.
"Aramina," said he, "leaving so soon?" His grin mocked her. He had killed with those teeth; it was a matter of pride for him. Unimpressed, the she made a sound that might have been a snort.
"Come now," he said soothingly. "You and I are above this beastly behavior."
Suddenly at ease, she sat and scratched her ears. Let him carry on the conversation by himself, her attitude seemed to say. Her unwelcome companion ignored the insult. Laughing, he crouched before her to wait. Clouds moved slowly past the moon, marking time.
It was a very long time before the elf got bored enough to try again. "Shall we sit here all night?" Again the black one growled, and then she barked softly. She stood, circled a time or two, then faced her adversary. The elf leaned back, his smile widening as he watched her change. Similar to the one he had just undertaken, her emergence was deliberately slow. The first thing she did when done was to toss her long, black hair and narrow one eye.
Shadowed by the night, her deep brown eyes glittered like obsidian. With a voice like a deep howl, she said, "Speak, and be quick."
"You've been feral too long," the elf said calculatingly. "Where are your manners?"
"I don't have time for manners." She stood naked, for she had long ago dispensed with such trivial things. The chill in the air made her shiver. It would only get colder before dawn, but she preferred not to think about that.
The elf sighed. How like her: business before pleasure. "Where are you going?" he asked unenthusiastically. They both knew the answer.
Aramina looked past him toward the moonlit clearing. "Gredber," she said slowly, as if she found speaking to be painful, "what is it you want?"
Gredber continued to smile, but now the expression looked sad somehow. He shook his head, freeing a brown cowlick into his eyes. Aramina had found that painfully attractive ages ago, but now she could barely remember why or even how they met.
That was the price of immortality. One could forget and never learn from their mistakes or go insane from the burden of memory. Aramina had been happy living with the pack and feeling the bliss of pure wildness. If Gredber’s occasional visits did not remind her that she was more than a mere lupine, she would have forgotten herself forever.
That would be too easy, she thought with narrowing eyes. Gredber was waiting, watching her warily. The choices she made tonight would affect him as much as her. Regardless of that responsibility, she intended to plunge onward. She was not the naive girl of long ago and would no longer sacrifice time for another’s comfort. Of all people, Gredber should know that.
"Let me pass," Aramina snapped.
Chin high, she took a step forward. Their shoulders brushed each other. He gripped her arm suddenly and jerked her back in one violent motion. She gasped in pain, ducking a little to protect her ears. Involuntarily her eyes met his and locked. Then, shamefully, Aramina looked away and toward the ground.
Angrily, Gredber pushed her away. "Go then," he said, his voice choked with pain and anger. "I won't stop you."
Something fluttered, swept upward, and touched her cheek. By the time Aramina dared to look up, Gredber was gone back to the wood. Her pack had fallen silent; everything was quiet again but for the soft crunch of leaves under her feet as she timidly walked forward. Aramina rubbed her cheek where Gredber had kissed her.
When the moonlight hit her naked flesh, it set her aglow as if she were a goddess. Around her, the darkness held back as if it knew how unreachable she truly were. Her eyes remained focused on the clearing’s center, a dark area the moonlight could not touch. There as an ancient altar there. It was made from piled weathered stones and was stained dark with the blood of countless sacrifices.
Three rings of weathered stones, each marked with sigils of forgotten spirits, surrounded it. Aramina could not remember what the sigils were for, or who they named, except one. She paused when she reached the first ring of stones and touched it with a single finger. “Mine,” she whispered.
Her heart hammered in her chest. It was a long time before she could bring herself to step over the first ring and into this unholy, yet somehow sacred, place. The second ring of stones was even harder to cross, as if something pushed her back. Aramina held her breath when she stepped over the third and final ring. With the altar now just feet away, her soul shuddered.
Mortal eyes could not see the energy that flicked over the darkest part of the center. She smelled the energy in the same way she saw it. For an instant, she could not think of how to react. Then, she remembered as if instinct needed only the excuse to come alive. Her knees buckled, and she sank to the ground. Pressing her face to the earth, she touched the altar base with sweaty fingertips. A shock run up her arms and sent spasms to her toes. Atop the altar, a bright flame burst mysteriously to life, chasing away the shadows.
Inwardly Aramina groaned as her every nerve was set on fire. To acknowledge this torture was to forfeit her life, and she could not do that yet. She bit her lip, tasted blood, and stayed perfectly still, even when a spark jumped from the fire and burned a hole in her wrist.
Rise, a deep voice commanded. It came from everywhere; the ground, the trees, even her mind. She obeyed, resisting the urge to brush off her soiled knees. The flame flickered before her, capturing her gaze and holding it. Something invaded her soul, read it, then withdrew. Although she had expected and almost welcomed it, she still felt raped. Revulsion tightened her stomach.
Speak, said the voice.
"Lord," the fey said before choking. She swallowed, but a moment passed before she found her voice again. "I would ask a boon for your loyal servant."
Ask.
"I want to go home,” she said as quickly as she dared. "At least for two seasons–“
Silence! The air crackled with the command. Despite herself, Aramina flinched and awaited her punishment. The air was pregnant with expectancy.
You may go, the rumbling voice said after a while. It pleases me that you do.
"Lord?" Hope filled Aramina's eyes and moistened them with unshed tears.
I have an errand for you. Your companions will await...
Aramina nodded her head dutifully and bowed again. Within her mind, the voice methodically explained. Memories, left slumbering for ages, rose screaming to the top of her mind. Helpless, Aramina could only watch history replay behind her eyes...
The city gates were shattered by the siege engines, and fire rampaged through most of the area. The few survivors fled but were efficiently hunted down and exterminated. Their heads were severed and placed on pikes outside the walls.
One young woman - a fey creature of alluring dimensions - did not flee. The temple which had been her home for most of her life was now burning to a cinder right before her eyes. She stood fascinated while it crumbled inward, devouring itself in its death throes. There would be nothing left except fine ash when it was over.
Winds whipped at her torn, sooty acolyte's robes, pulling it around her legs. Shaking a triumphant fist toward the blaze, she laughed a high, crazy note before turning away. That was when she saw the ancient priest, who watched with sad eyes as he leaned on his staff. Apparently, he had been there a while.
"Join the fun, Old Man," she said playfully. She traced her hips with her hands, stretched, and pulled her hair up. "You could use the excitement."
The priest shook his head slowly. "It is enough," said he, "to watch the damage you have done."
She laughed again, but this time her mirth had a lower note to it. "Yes, I thought so, too." Coyly, she approached him. He did not back away nor show any sign of malice toward her, not even when she kissed his breast. Disappointed, she pulled away from him.
"You aren't mad at me?" she pouted, childishly putting her hands behind her back.
The old elf responded, "You were so full of promise," as if he spoke to an errant child and there were no fires around them.
"Promise?" she shrieked suddenly, spreading her legs apart and bringing up two fists. "What do you know of promise? You dined while I starved, scrubbing the floors with my bare hands! The only promise you filled was that of humiliation!"
"I am sorry for what the others did to you. It was out of my hands and beyond my knowledge."
"You saw me every day!" Her face was a mask of fury framed by the fire. "Every day you walked by, too intent on your own inner peace to see the suffering it caused!" She crouched.
“We saved your life,” the old priest said.
“You used me,” the woman hissed.
"I wish," said the old elf as he stood a little taller and leaned a bit less on his staff, "that it had not come to this."
With a shout and a flick of his wrist, he reached towards her. He was quicker than she expected, but she jumped out of reach just as his hands, glowing with white-hot flame, groped for her face. She cracked his chin with her fist, and he staggered back, flailing wildly. His pinky grazed her cheek, burning it. She howled in pain, backing away while he regained his senses.
They feinted: a slow dance in which she circled and he shifted only to watch. With a new howl, she changed form and rushed him. His form matched hers and two wolves, white on black, clashed in a rage of snapping teeth. Rolling over each other, tearing any flesh within reach, they hit the temple steps. Kicking legs scattered glowing embers.
The black wolf somehow managed to clamp her teeth on the white wolf’s inner thigh. Yelping, the white wolf broke free with a twist and scampered to get away. The black one latched to his ankle and held tightly. She tried to get a better grip, but slipped. The white one twisted loose, snarled, and ripped into her front leg.
She bit his nose, tasted blood, and limped back when her leg was released. The two faced each other, snarling, for the briefest of moments. Then the black one leapt.
The white wolf dodged but slipped on some cooling embers and missed his footing. The black one was on him instantly. They rolled until the white wolf lay on his back. The impact knocked the breath from the aging werewolf. While he was stunned, the black one tore his throat. Hot blood sprayed into her eyes, and she knew that she had won. The black one’s warbling howl sang victoriously across the burning wreckage.
Warily, three elves and a dwarf approached from up a nearby street. The black one barked at them, content to scratch one ear while she waited. When she was within reach, the leader scratched her ear. He was a charming elf with tousled brown hair. His sparkling green eyes studied the body of the white wolf as it slowly lost its transformation to again become the high priest.
"Well done, Aramina," he said. The black one harruphed, wagging her tail. "If a little dishonorably accomplished."
The black one's eyes were full of mischief. However it was done, the job was complete. And what was honor between her and her enemies but a lie?
Other work by Katrina Joyner:
For General Audiences
10 Confessions & A Kiss
A Chance Encounter of Two
A Troll’s Tail
Akashik
Battle of Angels
Beloved
Black Wolf, Silver Fox
Eternal
Exiles (with Dandelion Studios)
The Golden Ship
It’s Never Romantic to Wash the Dishes
Kaeli & Rebecca: Other People’s Pain (Dandelion Studios)
Kaeli & Rebecca: Reflections (Dandelion Studios)
-ologist at LARGE
Slingshots
Strings Below
The Scent of Wild Heather
Whimsical Words and Dramatic Affairs - A Book of Badly Written Poetry
For Children
Why the Firefly Blinks
For Adults
Going Under
Heavenly Bride
Only the Innocent
The Page of Cups (editing for Tim Belcher)
Trait of Honor (in progress)
If She Only Had a Brain
The Future of Powwow Dancing in Native America
Cycles of Change: A Look at Global Warming